


Blood, Sex and Booze

by oldasyouromens



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, BDSM, Daddy Kink, Dom Ian, Face-Fucking, Light Bondage, M/M, PWP, Praise Kink, The Ball Gag(tm), ian calls mickey baby a lot, sub Mickey, this is dorty yall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-16 07:22:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28827363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oldasyouromens/pseuds/oldasyouromens
Summary: waiting in a room, all dressed up and bound and gagged down to a chair... it's so unfair.
Relationships: Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Comments: 5
Kudos: 136





	Blood, Sex and Booze

**Author's Note:**

> Based on Green Day's "Blood, Sex and Booze."

_i won’t dare to move_

_for the pain she puts me through is what i need_

_so make it bleed_

The old wooden chair didn’t quite fit in Ian and Mickey’s bedroom. It used to keep the washing machine door closed but lately it’d just been taking up space, so Ian decided he would put it to good use. It was nestled between Ian’s side of the bed and the wall, and mostly used as a nightstand with their various odds and ends thrown onto it.

Tonight though, the chair was cleared off and pulled away from the wall just far enough so that Mickey’s hands, bound behind the chair, wouldn’t knock against it.

Mickey’s feet were planted on the ground, his fingers itching at the handcuffs and his jaw starting to ache around the ball gag. Goosebumps rose on his exposed skin as a breeze blew through their cracked window.

He could hear the shower running across the hall; it’d been at least ten minutes since Ian left him here, with just the command of “be good.”

Mickey fidgeted in an attempt to make himself more comfortable, but the wooden chair was unforgiving. All he could do was try to relax and try to clear his head. He needed this. Ian knew exactly what he needed, and he knew exactly how to give it to him.

He tensed when he heard the water squeak off, swallowing as best as he could around the gag. His dick twitched, having gone fully soft while waiting for Ian.

It was another minute until their door was slid open and Mickey’s breath caught in his throat when Ian, clad in only a pair of grey sweatpants hung lowly on his hips, stepped in.

His hair was still damp, his chest and shoulders gleamed in the low light coming through the window. His eyes were dark. Hungry. Mickey’s dick twitched again.

Ian just stood in front of Mickey for a moment, taking him in. His silence was making Mickey restless, feeling exposed and too vulnerable. He was about to whine around his gag when one of Ian’s big hands reached out to cradle his jaw.

“Were you good?” Ian asked, rubbing his thumb sweetly along Mickey’s cheekbone.

_Duh_ , Mickey thought, _I’m literally bound and gagged_. But instead of snarking, he just looked up at Ian through his eyelashes and nodded.

“Yeah?” Ian asked again, fingers creeping up into Mickey’s hair. He stepped closer until he was standing with his feet on either side of the chair. He pulled Mickey’s head back as he went, making sure he was looking at him.

Mickey nodded again, trying to vocalize a “yes” around the gag, but it came off as more of a “euhh.” 

Ian smirked and trailed his fingers down Mickey’s hair to his neck, running the back of his fingers against his pulse point.

“You nervous, baby?” Ian cooed, Mickey’s pulse racing underneath his fingers.

Mickey shook his head, looking up at him with wide eyes. He nearly jumped when Ian gripped his jaw, forcing his mouth open further.

“Don’t lie to me,” he said harshly, bringing his face down so close that their noses were almost touching.

Mickey groaned as pain flared in his jaw, his eyes rolling upwards. He nodded the best he could when Ian kept his tight hold on him.

“Good,” Ian said simply, releasing Mickey and taking a step back. “God, you’re so fucking beautiful, huh?” he marveled, taking in Mickey’s heaving chest, arm muscles stretched taut behind him, his half hard cock resting against his stomach.

Ian reached down and palmed at his own cock, already bulging against his sweats. “My pretty little fuckin’ toy,” he hummed, reaching out to pinch one of Mickey’s cheeks.

Mickey huffed and tried to shake Ian’s fingers off, earning a slap in response.

“That’s how it’s gonna be tonight?” Ian asked, voice now rough and low.

Mickey groaned, arching his hips off the chair. His cock throbbed, now standing at full mast.

Ian grabbed Mickey’s waist and pushed him back down against the chair. “Look at me,” he commanded, and Mickey hadn’t even realized that his eyes slipped shut.

Mickey stared into those dark green eyes and felt his stomach flip with excitement.

“I’m gonna fuckin’ wreck you tonight,” Ian promised, fingers digging into Mickey’s hipbones.

Mickey just nodded hopelessly, skin burning where Ian was touching him. He wanted more; He wanted Ian to hurt him, to make him feel good. Shit, Mickey didn’t know where one ended and the other began and truthfully, he didn’t give a fuck.

Ian reached up and thumbed at the strap of the gag. “Gonna take this off,” he murmured before unclasping it.

Mickey let out a heaving gasp as his mouth was freed, coughing and feeling spit drip down his chin. “Thank you, Sir,” he whimpered, and received another slap.

“Didn’t say you could fuckin’ talk,” Ian barked, thumb rubbing at Mickey’s bottom lip. “But… good boy,” he hummed, pulling Mickey’s bottom lip down.

Mickey obediently dropped his jaw and then closed his mouth around Ian’s thumb when it was pushed in.

Ian bit down on his own lip and shallowly thrusted his thumb in and out. “Such a dirty little mouth.” He rubbed at his cock through his pants, imagining Mickey’s hot throat around him.

Ian pulled out and wiped the spit on his thumb against Mickey’s swollen lips. “What’s this mouth good for, huh?” he asked, watching Mickey’s bottom lip quiver.

Mickey just stared at him, eyes shifting nervously.

Ian chuckled darkly, tilting Mickey’s chin up. “You can speak, baby.”

“You,” Mickey choked, nodding. “Just you, sucking your cock, your fingers, your come, anything you want, that’s all it’s good for, Sir,” he whimpered, leaning his face into Ian’s gentle touch.

“Good boy,” Ian praised lowly, putting pressure on Mickey’s jaw. “Open your mouth.”

Mickey’s jaw snapped open and Ian spit into it. Mickey groaned and shifted his hips, his cock now aching.

Ian stood up again, pushing his hand into his pants and tugging at his cock a few times before pulling it out. “Let’s put that mouth to good use, yeah?”

Mickey keened and nodded, mouth dropping open and taking every slow inch of Ian cock as it was given to him.

Ian shuddered a sigh and slipped his hand into Mickey’s hair, just resting his cock inside Mickey’s mouth. “You ready?” he asked after a minute, and Mickey nodded the best he could with his mouth full.

Ian gave a few shallow thrusts before his fingers tightened painfully against Mickey’s head and he started to fuck his face in earnest.

Mickey moaned around Ian’s cock, letting him fuck as deep as he wanted.

“Fuck, that’s right, take it, baby,” Ian grunted, his hands on either side of Mickey’s head to keep him still.

Mickey’s jaw was on fire, but it felt _so damn good_. He reveled in the feeling of breathlessness, of helplessness.

Ian pressed in deeper and Mickey gagged, his throat convulsing around Ian’s cock, making him groan and pull on Mickey’s hair harder.

“Oh fuck, choke on it, you fucking slut,” Ian groaned, his thrusts speeding up. “Gonna come in your pretty fucking mouth, baby,” he breathed, starting to lose his rhythm. “Look at Daddy.”

Mickey looked up through bleary eyes, his cheeks shining with tears. The sight itself pushed Ian over the edge. He brought a hand up to jerk himself into Mickey’s mouth, coming all over his lips and tongue.

Ian wasted no time and leaned down to press his hot, open mouth against Mickey’s, fucking his come down his husband’s throat.

After they cooled down and he tucked his dick back in his pants, Ian pulled back and pressed their foreheads together. He sighed and his breath fanned over Mickey’s face, making him shiver.

“How’re you feeling, baby?” Ian asked, looking up at him.

“Good, good, just,” Mickey whined, fidgeting in his seat, “fucking hard.”

Ian looked down at Mickey’s red, leaking dick and laughed. Fucking _laughed_. It took every ounce of Mickey to not knee him in the balls. He was immediately rewarded for his restraint by Ian unlocking one of his wrists.

He stretched out and groaned, rolling out his shoulders.

Ian ran his fingers through Mickey’s hair, letting him recover from being in that uncomfortable position for so long.

After giving Mickey his moment, Ian’s hand slipped from Mickey’s hair to his neck and suddenly gripped tight.

His lips pressed against Mickey’s ear; “Face down. Ass up. Hands behind your back,” he instructed, and Mickey all but jumped to the task.

Ian clipped the other handcuff back in place after Mickey had assumed the position on the bed, then he just sat back for a moment and admired his husband’s ass. He reached out and grabbed one of his cheeks, shaking it back and forth and appreciating the jiggle. He pulled back and suddenly spanked him with as much force as he could.

Mickey let out a gasp, face pressing further into pillow. His ass stung like a bitch and he pressed it back towards Ian for more.

“Fuck, my dirty little fucking boy,” Ian groaned, grabbing two handfuls of ass and squeezing hard. “Want more, baby?”

Mickey nodded, eyes squeezing shut in preparation for another smack, but instead he was pulled back by his hair, roughly.

“What do you say?” Ian asked, forehead pressed against Mickey’s temple.

“Please,” Mickey spluttered, and it took just another tug at his hair to remember: “Daddy, please, I need it,” he gasped.

Ian leaned back on his knees, raking his fingers down Mickey’s ass on his way back. He spanked the other cheek, watching his handprint bloom and then fade. He did it a few more times, being spurred on by Mickey’s whimpers and cries, only stopping when Mickey let out an actual sob.

Ian groaned and spread Mickey’s cheeks, his dry thumb rubbing over his twitching hole. “Look at you, baby. So fucking desperate, huh.” He licked his lips and looked up at Mickey.

“Am I right, Mick? You wanna get fucked?” he asked, pressing kisses against his husband’s bright red asscheeks.

Mickey’s response was muffled between the pillow and his own sniffles.

“Gotta speak up, baby,” Ian hummed, pressing his thumbs against either side of Mickey’s hole.

Mickey turned his head from the pillow, exasperated. “Please, please, Sir, I’ll do anything you fuckin’ want, you know I will. Want you to fill me up, Daddy, need it,” Mickey babbled urgently, pressing back into Ian’s touch.

Ian groaned, thumb pressing against Mickey’s hole again, just barely breaching him. “Fuck, good boy, you’re such a good boy for me,” he praised, pulling his thumb out and spitting on his hole before leaning down and closing his mouth over him.

Ian buried his face in Mickey’s ass, sucking and lapping at him. He gripped at his cheeks and spread them far, fucking his tongue into Mickey’s hole as soon as it loosened up enough for him.

Mickey keened and gasped as Ian went to town, fingers stretching and grabbing at nothing behind him.

Ian was moaning like Mickey was the best thing he ever tasted, trying to get as deep inside him as he could. He pulled back to catch his breath, pressing his forehead against the small of Mickey’s back. “Your _ass_ , Mick,” he breathed, squeezing the place where it met the top of his thighs. “Stay,” he ordered, gathering up all of his willpower to leave the sight in front of him.

Ian reached down under the bed to find the lube that had definitely rolled under there. He grabbed around blindly for a second before his fingers brushed the tube and he hoisted himself back up.

The sound of the bottle being uncapped sent chills down Mickey’s spine, ass arching further up from the bed.

Once Ian’s fingers were slicked, he rubbed just his middle finger against Mickey’s hole. “That’s it, Mick,” he murmured, using his clean hand to press against the small of his husband’s back, making him arch further. He rewarded the full arch by sliding his middle finger in to the knuckle, letting out a quiet moan at the feeling of Mickey’s tight ass.

Mickey sighed, eyes fluttering closed and shifting on his knees so he could take Ian’s finger deeper. He let out a breath at every push of the digit, not trying to push his luck by pressing back against it.

Ian was watching Mickey’s hole slack-jawed, pulling his finger out and rubbing it before pressing back in with two. Mickey moaned softly and it fueled Ian to fuck his fingers in faster.

Mickey couldn’t stop himself from shifting back on every thrust, trying to meet Ian’s fingers.

Ian picked up on it immediately and threw his arm around Mickey’s waist, holding him still in a punishing grip. “You want more, baby? Is that it?” Ian asked tauntingly, before starting to finger fuck him hard and fast.

Mickey all but cried out, dick twitching painfully as his prostate was being absolutely abused. He tried to speak, but the only thing he could push out of his mouth were gasps.

“You wanna come like this? Is that what you want, then?” Ian asked, not letting up.

Mickey shook his head as best as he could, unable to stop the whimpers and sobs of pleasure that ripped through him.

“No, then? What is it?” Ian groaned, slipping a third finger in but not slowing down.

“P- _please_ , Daddy,” Mickey forced out. When Ian didn’t stop, he steeled himself with a deep breath. “Fuck me, need your cock, need, _fuck_ , your come in- _uh_ -inside me,” Mickey begged, body tense with how hard he was working to keep himself from coming. 

Ian ripped his fingers out and pulled out his dick, making quick work of slicking himself up. “Need Daddy’s cock? Yeah?” he asked before sliding inside, matching the pace from before. 

Mickey wailed when he was finally stretched around Ian, face pressed into the pillow to muffle himself.

Ian grabbed Mickey’s wrists with one hand and reached into his hair with the other. “C’mere,” he grunted, pulling on it until Mickey’s head was raised from off the bed. “Whose are you?”

Mickey couldn’t find his words, gasping and moaning at every thrust.

Ian gripped at his hair harder. “ _Whose_ , you fucking slut?”

“ _Daddy_! Daddy’s, fuck, I’m yours, yours, please,” Mickey begged.

“Damn _fucking_ right you are,” Ian groaned, dropping Mickey’s head and instead closing his hand around the back of his neck, pushing him down against the bed.

“Gonna come on Daddy’s cock, baby?” he moaned, hips starting to stutter. “Want your little fucking hole filled up?”

“ _Yes,_ yes, please, please Daddy, fuck, right there, fuck me right there, don’t stop don’t stop don’t _stop_ ,” Mickey panted, his entire body trembling underneath Ian’s.

Ian kept his hand secured around Mickey’s waist, pulling him back on every thrust. “Come on, come for Daddy, wanna fuckin’ feel you,” he huffed, reaching down to brush his hand against Mickey’s cock.

The second Mickey was touched, he was a goner. He came so hard he nearly blacked out. He felt his entire body shake, pleasure shooting down to his toes.

“Holy fuck, Mick,” Ian gasped, eyebrows furrowing together as he continued to pound into Mickey. “Fuck, fuck, you’re so fucking tight, holy shit.”

“Wan’ it… please, come on, fill me up, wan’ your come, Daddy,” Mickey slurred, jaw slacked against the pillow as his body twitched in pleasure.

Ian thrust in one last time, choking out a moan as he unloaded deep inside his husband. “Mickey, Mickey, fuck, baby,” he groaned, arms shaking in the effort to keep holding himself up.

He rested a minute, cock softening inside Mickey, before pulling out. Mickey made a soft noise, and then shuddered at the feeling of Ian’s come starting to drip from his hole.

Ian reached for the key and uncuffed Mickey’s wrists, slowly pulling his arms apart. He massaged them both, trying to ease some of the pain while Mickey groaned and sighed into the pillow. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to the middle of Mickey’s slick back before pulling off and laying down next to him.

“Hey,” he murmured, reaching up to run his fingers through Mickey’s hair.

It took a minute, but Mickey finally gathered the strength to lift his head off the pillow and turn to Ian. “Hey,” he whispered, cracking a faint smile.

Ian grinned, bringing his hand down to cup Mickey’s cheek. “There he is,” he cooed, leaning in to press a kiss to his forehead.

“Shu’up,” Mickey mumbled, pressing closer.

Ian laughed softly, “C’mere,” and shifted onto his back, pulling Mickey on top of him.

Mickey instinctively curled around him, his head resting on top of Ian’s heart.

Ian rubbed his hand up and down his back, pressing a kiss to his temple. “Love you, baby.”

“Love you too, asshole.” 


End file.
